


Clint and Tony, Circus Brats Extraordinaire

by anecdotalist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Gen, Minor Character Death, Tony and Clint grow up together, Unbeta'd, gonna try to finish it, kind of, really old wip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anecdotalist/pseuds/anecdotalist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony runs away to the circus when he's 13 and meets Clint. Prompt fill for <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16524.html?thread=36719756#t36719756">avengerkink</a>.</p><p>-------</p><p>This is a repost of a fic I started writing almost a year and a half ago and then kinda sorta left to languish (I'm sorry!). But in honor of Avengers: Age of Ultron, I've decided to revive it and try to finish it. The first three parts are the original parts (with just a few tiny grammatical fixes like with spacing and spelling) so the new stuff begins with Chapter 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Um, yeah, so basically what the summary says. I don't know if anyone remembers this fic or is still interested in reading it but I started this back in 2013 and actually had most of the story vaguely outlined in my head (and apparently already wrote a possible ending for it which I do not remember at all and probably will change) and then just like lost interest or steam or something. But the next Avengers movie is coming out! Yay! I'm a terrible fan because I thought it was going to be late May and that I still had like a month to finish this but no, not so much. I doubt this will be finished before the movie's out, as was my original intention in reviving this story but at the very least, I'd like to finish this because it's been sitting around for nearly 2 years and I still think the prompt's a cute one and I feel terrible for leaving it hanging. So yeah, here we go with attempt #2! And guys, feel free to hound me about finishing this, okay?

Tony was 13 years old, the only son to the brilliant owner and creator of Stark Industries, smarter than any kid his age should be, more stubborn than an ox, and was currently huddling under a tree in soaking wet designer clothes wondering why he ever wanted to run away from home. But it was too late to take back - he'd left two days ago, had tracked down a traveling circus, and was now just stalking its entrance waiting for an opportune moment to approach. "And what do kids even _say_  when they run away to a circus? Hi, I'm sick of living under a roof, with regular meals and standardized plumbing but I didn't like the restrictions my parents put on me so I decided I wanted to live in freedom? Please take me with you?" he muttered to himself.

"I don't know about most children, but my brother and I said we were sick of being lost in an overcrowded orphanage with overworked caretakers who were struggling to feed all of us and we decided we wanted to travel the world."

"Ah!" Tony shrieked, jumping up and looking all around him in a vain search for the owner of the voice.

"Look up." Tony whipped his head back and sure enough, there was a boy hanging upside down from the lowest branch of the tree. "Hi! Clint Barton, at your service!" The boy smirked and flipped his fingers out in a parody of a military salute.

Tony frowned. "Do you always just sneak up on people like this?"

Clint shrugged. "Sometimes you just need to get away from everyone. And you're the one that sat down under my tree."

"You can't claim a tree and tell people to stay away from it,"Tony proclaimed.

Clint rolled his eyes. "Says the boy wearing hundreds of dollars worth of shoes and clothes. You probably have tons of trees at home," he sneered, or at least was trying to - Tony wasn't sure but he thought there was a hint of wistfulness in his voice too.

His thoughts flashed to the orchard behind the countryside estate that his mother favored and flushed, then scowled. "Just come down already and talk like a normal person! I'm getting a crick in my neck."

"Yes, _your majesty_. Anything you say, _your majesty_ ," Clint snarked, then in one smooth move pulled himself up onto the branch and flipped off, executing a couple of neatly tucked tumbles through the air before landing proudly next to Tony, arms akimbo.

"Congrats," Tony said dryly. "Are you training to be one of the acrobats?"

Clint dropped his hands and scowled. "The more you learn, the better chance you have at surviving in this world. That's what Barney says."

"What, the big purple dinosaur on that kid's show? You still watch that?" Tony snickered but then stopped when Clint looked genuinely confused instead of embarrassed and ashamed like any kid their age would be when caught out still watching Barney.

"Huh? No, my brother Barney. There's a big... _purple..._ dinosaur...?"

"Never mind," Tony said hastily, not wanting to get into a discussion about a children's show when he had other things to focus on. He gathered his courage together and stood up straighter. "So, who do I talk to about joining up?"

Clint raised an eyebrow. "You haven't even told me your name yet and you want me to bring you home?"

"Uh," Tony scrambled mentally. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this before but he couldn't give his real name, what if the press got wind of it? His father would kill him and Tony fully intended on living to enjoy his freedom. "It's, uh, John. John Smith." He mentally slapped himself on the forehead.  _John Smith? Who's gonna buy that?_

Clint didn't. "Sure, it is. You can join the three other John Smiths we have." He looked disgusted.

"Huh?"

"Let me guess. You ran away from home but since it's a decent home and your mom and dad are probably worried about you, you're thinking that you might one day go back and don't want them to hear about you joining the circus in the meantime. What, did daddy withhold allowance from you? Did mommy not _hug_ you goodnight? Or did she send you to bed without dessert? You well-adjusted kids give me a headache." Clint scoffed and turned around, stalking towards the entrance to the circus.

"What, and you think you get to be all high and mighty just because you think you have a worse sob story? You don't know anything about me or my life!" Tony shouted back, then cursed and ran after him, unwilling to let his only chance walk away.

They maintained a stony silence as they trudged through the rain to a red and white striped tent illuminated by a lantern on a post. Clint unceremoniously swept in and Tony hesitantly followed after.

"Ringmaster Carson, I found another one." Clint announced unceremoniously gesturing with a sardonic flourish at Tony.

Tony faced the ringmaster, who was a middle-aged man with a small mustache curled at the ends. He was wearing a pair of thin wire-rimmed glasses and reading through some papers. The man looked him up and down, likely taking in the details of his clothes, shoes, and hair. He then looked back at Clint and smiled.

"Clint, you can't keep bringing home strays. How are we going to keep feeding them all?"

"But they all look so pathetic. Besides, John 3 left us at the last stop so this one can take his place," Clint argued.

"Ah, another John Smith?" The ringmaster turned a benevolent smile on Tony and Tony stiffened. "Son, the circus isn't all fun and games. There's a lot of hard work involved. Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

"No. I already made my choice. I'm not going back," Tony answered stubbornly.

"Mm-hmm. Well, then, will there be anyone looking for you?"

Tony thought of the last news clip he had seen of his father at the bus station that morning - revealing the newest Stark technology, looking completely calm and unruffled. Nothing had been mentioned of his son being missing. _No_ _doubt he thinks I'll come slinking home with my metaphorical tail between my legs and ready to act like the obedient son. Well, fuck you, dad. You can have Captain America for a son whenever you find him,_ Tony thought viciously. "No, sir. No one."

"Okay then. Clint, show him to the children's trailer. We'll be moving out at midnight. Welcome to _Carson's_ _Carnival of Traveling Wonders_ , son."

Tony nodded, then followed Clint through the campground until they arrived at a trailer, already hitched to a truck. "You can't actually be John 3. It's too soon and the little ones will get confused. So you'll be John 5." Clint told him authoritatively before throwing open the door and letting a warm golden light spill out. "Home sweet home!"

Tony clambered up after him and looked around curiously as a group of young children swarmed around Clint, who laughed and picked up the littlest one, a girl of about 5, with pigtails, freckles, and a missing front tooth. A couple of older children waited in the back of the group, catching sight of Tony immediately and watching him. Tony forced himself to ignore them as he took in the rows of bunks taking up the back half of the trailer and two wooden tables with wrap-around benches on either side near the middle. In front of the entrance was what looked like a small kitchenette area, with some counters, a small fridge, and a microwave. Everything was brightly painted and well lit. If one didn't look too closely, one could miss the shabby thin throw pillows on the bench, the fact that the crayons on the table were just bare nubs, the few dolls scattered around were missing buttons and eyes, the wood on the floor and furniture were scuffed and stained.

Tony brought his focus back on Clint's group, where a little boy was jumping up and down and asking, "What'd ya find on your scouting trip, Clint? Show us, show us!"

Clint laughed. "First let's move over to the tables, everyone, so Jess and Mike can get your bedtime snacks." The kids cheered and the group shuffled over to the tables, shoving each other in their fight to claim a spot near Clint. Tony also moved over, sticking near the wall and hating that familiar feeling of hovering where he wasn't wanted or noticed. As the two older children walked by the table, Clint asked them "Where's Barney?"

The boy hesitated, then shook his head, long brown bangs flopping over his eyes. "Still with the Swordsman."

Clint frowned. "Okay. Well, we're leaving at midnight."

The other two nodded, pulling out various snacks from the cupboard and fridge.

Clint turned back to the group. "Okay, first, I found John 5!" He made a grand showman's gesture at Tony. The children ooh'ed and as one turned to look at Tony. He smiled uneasily and gave a small wave. "Make room for him so he can sit too."

After a small scramble, Tony found himself seated at the end of a bench with a little girl on his lap sucking on her thumb. Everyone turned back to Clint expectantly and he rustled around in his pockets and gradually pulled out an assortment of things, making a show of placing each one on the table - some ribbons, a small box of five little crayons, a light-up yo-yo.

"Everything's a little wet right now because of the rain, but when it dries, I can show you guys some tricks with the yo-yo. I think the lights might be broken though."

"I can fix that." Tony didn't realize he had spoken up until the kids at the table swiveled around to look at him with wide eyes.

"Really?" Clint asked dubiously.

"Yeah, shouldn't be too hard. But we'll have to wait for it to dry."

Clint gave him a small smile and nodded.

"On that note, lets set everything aside for now." Tony looked up and watched as the older girl set down a plate of sliced apples and bananas and an assortment of crackers. As everyone reached in for the food, the girl stood next to Tony. "Welcome aboard, John. I'm Jess and that's Mike," she gestured to the boy with the floppy bangs, who was currently putting away a small paring knife. "We're the oldest. I'm 16 and he's 15. Clint over there is 13. He's got the sharpest eyes so he likes to go scavenging for things for the group whenever we're stopped. His brother Barney is also 15 but he spends most of his time training with the Swordsman. Clint works with Trick Shot but he also helps out everywhere. Mike works with the animal trainers and I'm with the clowns."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm sure you'll find a place here too, if you decide to stay. Most of the John Smiths we get only hang around for a week or so, then they get tired of the work or we get further away from their home and they decide they don't want to leave after all."

"I'm already far away from home," Tony said, thinking of the two days he'd spent on the Greyhound. They'd been both the most terrifying days and the most disgusting days of his life and he thought he could still smell the stink of the stations even after the rain. Jess nodded but didn't look like she believed in him. That was fine, she'll see when he's still around in a couple of weeks. "So, these kids....some of them are too young to have run away already," he brought up cautiously, not wanting to sound like he was accusing them of kidnapping but curious nonetheless.

"Some of them belong to the performers. It's just easier for the adults if all of the kids were together. That way, they can do their jobs without worrying. We watch out for each other."

Just then, a light bang sounded on the door and a rough woman's voice filtered through. "Lights out in 15!"

"Yes, Marie!" Jess called back. Looking at Tony, she explained "The fortune teller. She's sort of our mother, I guess. Makes sure we have regular bedtimes and all." Raising her voice, she announced. "Alright everyone, you heard Marie. Get ready for bed!"

As the kids ran off in a herd for the bunks, Clint slid over to him. "We usually share three or four to a bunk, with at least one of the older kids in each bunk in case any of the little ones need something at night. I hope you don't kick."

Tony shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."


	2. Chapter 2

And so it went. For the first couple of days, Tony shadowed Clint around, meeting all of the performers and learning where things were. He saw with some amusement that Clint was about as ADHD as he was, enthusiastically helping one performer with a task before getting distracted by someone else and running off to say hi, and then being pulled away from that conversation when he heard the animals clamoring for attention and food. So really, Tony half-met everyone but it seemed like people were used to Clint's ways, shaking their heads with a smile when he took off.

_He's like a bird, short attention span and constantly distracted by shiny things,_ Tony mused, following him to the lion cages. Then he snorted silently to himself, thinking of all the unfinished projects he had lying around in the workroom that he had converted from his childhood playroom. He didn't think his father had even noticed the migration of tools from his workshop into Tony's wing of the house and the men from the donation center Jarvis had arranged to come collect the outgrown toys.

Soon, Tony was helping out with the tasks that Clint was doing, the other boy first telling him what to do authoritatively but then looking pleased when Tony started making suggestions on how to fix things or improve the way things worked. He looked fascinated whenever Tony took something apart to show him the inner workings, just as he had that first day when Tony had cracked open the yo-yo to expose the simple electrical wiring inside.

The two of them snarked constantly with each other, but never talked about anything serious like their pasts or who Tony really was. Tony would mock Clint for his lack of pop culture knowledge but secretly delighted in Clint's confused expression whenever Tony made references, as if he was thinking _why would anyone watch something like that?_ Or, _why would anyone care what some famous person named their baby?_

It was a sentiment that Tony himself shared so he was glad to have someone to laugh with about it. Clint for his part could be bossy at times, but in a way that seemed like he was both showing off his own knowledge about the circus and showing off the circus. He had dragged Tony off to watch the clowns getting ready, outlining every step of their make up application and costuming as if Tony couldn't see it for himself and as if it was a terribly complicated project. But then at the end, he turned excitedly to Tony with a "Ta-da! That's one of the secrets of the circus!" And Tony did have to admit to being impressed that mousy Tom with his ruffled brown hair and librarian glasses had transformed into an overexcited and outlandishly dressed clown.

In the lion den, Clint would detail the feeding schedule for the animals while tossing in chunks of raw meat. Then, after the lions had gobbled them down, he stuck his hand through the bars to pet their manes while Tony watched in frozen horror. Clint had laughed. "What, they're totally harmless after they're full!"

Tony would have snatched his hand away but was afraid that any sudden movements might startle the lions into taking off Clint's arm. Clearly, the animals were used to Clint and were tolerating it for some nefarious animal reason. _They're probably hoping that he'll get so comfortable he'll go into the cage completely so they can eat him whole,_ Tony thought in despair, warily eyeing the lion who looked like it was settling down for a nap. When they finally left and Tony felt like he could safely talk at a normal volume again, he demanded "Don't you have any self-preservation instincts?!"

"What? It's not like I'm sticking my hand into a fire," Clint frowned minutely, "or however that saying goes."

Tony waved away that concern. "No, you're sticking your hand right in front of a lion! You know, most sane people stay as far away from lions as possible!"

"Aw, but King wouldn't hurt me! He's known me since I was a little kid!"

"King?" Tony could feel his eye twitching.

"Cuz he's the King of the jungle! Duh."

Tony looked at him gravely for a second while Clint stared back seriously and then they both cracked up.

Pretty soon, he became known as "Clint's shadow" instead of John 5 and while that may not sound like a big step, people did start to treat him like he belonged here, instead of like the other John Smiths who were treated like kids on a field trip. He started thinking that maybe this was what having a friend was like.

It wasn't all fun and games, disappointingly, even though this _was_ a circus. But whenever Tony messed up - and he did, inevitably, because he was Tony Stark and he had never learned when to stop pushing or when to accept that he didn't know something - Clint was quick to step in and run interference. And Tony, who was just a little more aware of when people started really losing their temper rather than just being fondly exasperated, would pull Clint away from situations that looked like they were about to blow up. Tony liked that they could poke fun at one another but still look out for each other and he started wondering if maybe this is was what having a brother would have been like.

_A brother you could choose_ , he revised quickly, remembering his first meeting with Clint's biological brother. Barney was as closed off and wary as Clint was friendly and open. There was a bit of wildness in his eyes and he was quick to snap at anyone over anything. Most of the young ones were careful around him and Clint was the only one he ever listened to and even then, not much. He spent most of his time in whatever clear area the Swordsman - a man who showed little to no emotions ever, even during performances - had marked off and claimed for a practice space. Tony rarely saw Barney around and for that he was relieved. There was something off about the guy but he didn't feel that it was his place to say anything since he barely knew the guy.

Besides that one dark spot, Tony enjoyed being a part of the circus. He liked being able to do something that had noticeable benefits (the trucks and trailers were all running almost like new and he'd been able to fix or improve most of the electronics in the camp, though there weren't many anyway) and he liked that there weren't any pre-set standards for him to try (and fail) to meet. He liked that everyone in the circus was so weird that there couldn't _be_ any pre-set standards or expectations.

But all of that made it even more difficult for him to make a decision on his name. He had, in fact, agonized over it for several nights. He'd already outlasted the other John Smiths that had been there when he joined and he knew some people were waiting to see if he was going to leave too. He didn't care about them, though. They could keep on wondering forever if they wanted to. What _he_ wanted to do was be able to tell Clint, but he was also worried about how the other boy would react when he found out who Tony really was and he didn't want Clint to treat him differently, hated the thought of him looking at Tony like everyone at school had, like he was just some rich kid they had to cater to.

One night, after he had finally made his decision, Tony followed Clint when he went out to scavenge after a show. As he tried to work up the courage to broach the topic, he listened to Clint pointing out things that he saw, and was amazed at his ability to pick out things that were barely visible to most other people.

Finally, he thought to himself _screw_ _this_ and blurted out "It's Tony, Tony Stark" while Clint had bent down to poke through a pile of leaves. He slapped himself on the forehead because, yeah, that just came out of nowhere.  _Good job, Tony._

Clint, though, just murmured "Cool" and nodded, still focused on digging through the pile. He gave a small exclamation of triumph and popped back up with a bracelet dangling from his fingers. "Jess will love this."

"Clint, did you not hear me?" Tony asked, trying not to sound annoyed. "I'm trying to reveal a possibly life-changing secret to you! You should at least act shocked."

"Oh, sorry to disappoint, Mr. Prima Donna." Clint looked puzzled. "Was that a big secret?"

"Uh, yeah? My dad's Howard Stark, from Stark Industries?"

Clint looked at him searchingly then shrugged. "Okay." He continued walking, eyes alert for any other shiny baubles.

"It's only _the_ leading tech company in the country, possibly the world!"

"Tony," Clint drawled out. "Do we look like we invest in technology? Or keep up with the newest inventions? Or read the newspapers?"

"But, it's," Tony floundered. His shoulders slumped. "So you really don't know who he is?"

"No. Did you want me to? Was it supposed to change something? I always figured you came from money. Does this mean your parents are gonna come looking for you?"

Tony smiled bitterly. "If my father really wanted to find me, he would have by now. He's so wrapped up in his obsessions that he's never noticed me. My mom's so busy trying to get his attention and going to her _galas_ to have time for me."

Clint studied him some more, then grinned brightly. "Well, forget about them. I hereby dub thee, Tony Stark, a carnie! From here on, the performers will be your family, the tents and trailers will be your home, and the lions will be your pets!"

"Uh, I was with you up until you mentioned the lions."

Clint waved away what he felt was a very valid point and grabbed hold of his wrist, tugging him back in the direction of the campground. "Come on, let's celebrate. We've been holding onto the treats  _forever_. I thought the kids were gonna stage a rebellion and forcibly adopt you just so they can get their sugar rush."

"What are you  _talking_ about?" Tony laughed, jogging to keep up.

"You'll see!" Clint called back. When they barged into their trailer, it was to find that they had interrupted storytime, with all of the younger kids gathered around Jess while the older children played cards at the other table. No one seemed to mind though, given the cheer that went up when Clint triumphantly threw up the hand still holding Tony's wrist and announced "His name's Tony and he's here to stay!"

Tony felt himself flushing at the enthusiasm and couldn't think of anything to say beyond "Uh, thanks, guys."

Jess made her way through the group, saying loudly but with a smile "Good timing too. I don't think we could have held back the kids for much longer."

Tony was still puzzled but then saw what she and Clint had been vaguely referencing - a tub of ice cream, a rare treat indeed. "I'm impressed you managed to protect that for more than a day," he said admiringly.

She gave a quick mischievous smile. "We have our ways. Now come here and scoop out the ice cream before they kill us."

He did, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see all of the kids watching them avidly. Later, after the ice cream had been devoured and the kids had passed out from the sugar crash, Tony looked around at the warmly lit trailer and at the people who didn't care about its shabby state, and felt a rush of warmth. _This_ , he thought, _is family. People who actually notice and care whether or not you're here. People who save up treats to celebrate an occasion, even if it's something that only they know the importance of._


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Mechanic!" Tony looked up from his cards to see that Jess had popped her head through the open door of their trailer.

Tony couldn't stop the grin if his life depended on it; a couple of weeks old and the nickname still sent a thrill through him. "Yeah?"

"They need you over at booth 11. Think it got knocked around a bit during transport."

"On my way." Tony flipped up a salute and threw down his hand, ignoring Clint's disgusted "I was winning that round!" Tony rolled his eyes. "In your dreams Barton. Come on, let's go see what's wrong with the duck hunt." Clint grumbled but followed readily enough, curious as always to see how the games worked.

Time had slipped by, the circus had grown, and soon Tony had found himself a permanent place working not with any of the performers or showmen but with the folks who operated the games. Often, he was just there to lend a hand when they needed to fix something but a few let him tinker with their set-up. It was hard to get the materials to build a game from scratch, but some of the vendors had liked his ideas and were willing to let him make adjustments, so long as their booths were operational when they opened.

His days had developed a routine - in the mornings, he'd go with Clint to feed the animals (just to make sure that the other boy didn't actually walk into the cage whole like Tony was  _sure_ the lions were still waiting for), then he'd go work on one of the games, and then Clint would come by after his archery practice with Trick Shot to test out the games. Tony was determined to make each game nearly impossible to beat without actually rigging it and Clint served as his  _'see, it_ _is_ _humanly possible to hit that!'_ example.

"One day," he said admiringly once while Clint was making kill hits on a human silhouette target at the shooting range, "I'll make a target that you can't hit."

Clint snorted and grinned as he lined up his next shot. "Good luck with that." It hit the tiny bullseye set in the neck of the silhouette.

With this game, all they had done was simply set the targets further back and angled the papers slightly. Most of the others in the test group hadn't noticed and as a result, their first shots were wildly off. Clint, though, had furrowed his brow thoughtfully while his target was being settled and then like the hawk he was nicknamed for, tilted his head from one side to the other, then leaned over to look at the target from the side before taking aim. His first shot landed on the outer ring of the chest target. His next one hit the bullseye. Tony wasn't sure if he was more uncomfortable or impressed with the fact that Clint was so comfortable handling a rifle.

"You can't be serious," Tony said later, after he and Charlie had fixed the duck hunt and Clint tested it out for them. It featured three rows of differently shaped targets, moving in different directions, with the goal being to shoot only the ducks and not anything else. Tony had increased the difficulty by increasing the speed as the game progressed, and then varying the speed between the three rows.

On Clint's first run, he had been a little too trigger happy and accidentally shot some of the "hunters." After that, he set his mouth grimly and seemed to zero in on the targets. He made it through fifteen minutes and had drawn a crowd of fellow carnies who had paused in their work to watch. Trick Shot stood off to the side with a proud smile.

"Those reflexes are too good. Are you sure you're fully human? You didn't happen to get ahold of some of Captain America's serum, did you?" Tony asked while the two of them made their way to their nest in the beams under the hightop. It was their usual spot to watch the show, and throw things at the audience, but tonight was different - it was Jess' first night out with the clowns.

Clint threw him a look. "Please, if I had that serum, I wouldn't use it for my reflexes."

"I don't think you quite get how that serum works." But Tony let the topic drop in favor of climbing up one of the support poles. They spent the next hour cheering Jess' entrance, throwing popcorn into peoples' hats, and making up stories of their superhero identities: Hawkeye and the Mechanic. Tony had protested that that made it sound like he was the sidekick but he had to admit that 'The Mechanic and Hawkeye' just didn't have the same ring to it. It didn't stop him sulking about it through the end of the show and into their nightly patrol through the concession stands and gaming booths.

"Step right up! Who's going to challenge this man to a horse race? Come on, folks, he's won three rounds already, so now the big prize is up for grabs!"

"That's my cue," Clint muttered and they followed the sound of John's megaphone-enhanced voice to the water gun race, where they found him gesturing at one of the giant stuffed animals hanging off the ceiling. He looked a little wild about the eyes so Tony guessed this wasn't the first big prize at stake tonight.

John caught sight of them and beamed. "You boys! Care to try your luck? I bet there's some cute girls who'd love to get one of these bears!"

Clint played his part as they had rehearsed, blushing at the mention of girls, then hemming and hawing about playing, and finally sitting down at one of the pistols. The reigning champion - a guy who looked like he was in his 20s - watched on in amusement with his girlfriend draped over him. After John got a few more people to join the game, they started the race, little wooden horses moving along as the competitors fired their water guns at a small target. At one point, Tony had to lean over to tell Clint to slow down and make it look realistic. Clint had given a small put-upon sigh but did so. They still walked away with a giant bear, which nearly completely dwarfed Clint.

"That bear looks like it's eating you. I bet King would be jealous."

"King does not want to eat me!"

"Uh huh, you just keep telling yourself that."

They dropped off the bear at the communal prize trailer and went on to wander the fairgrounds some more.

Tony dared to think that this was the happiest he could ever remember being.

The next day, of course, his life fell apart.

He was fixing up the a/c in one of the trailers when Clint found him.

"Hey man, there's a guy talking to Carson who looks like Bruce Wayne's butler. I think he might be yours."

Tony dropped the screwdriver at Clint's announcement. "What? Jarvis? Why would he be here?" He hurried out of the trailer without waiting for an answer, feeling his heart thudding in his chest. Jarvis knew he was okay - Tony made sure to send him regular messages - so why was he here? He rounded the corner and sure enough, there was Jarvis, gray haired and in his habitual suit, speaking quietly with the Ringmaster.

"Jarvis! Hey, J! What are you doing here?" Tony ran up, heedless of their conversation and threw his arms around the butler's waist. Jarvis squeezed him back.

"I see you're still alive and well, young sir."

"Aw, don't be like that, J. I sent you letters and postcards. I just, y'know, haven't had a return address for awhile. How'd you find us anyway?"

"Oh, I've been tracking you for awhile now. Your father said you'd come back when you were bored and hungry but I can see that he underestimated your resourcefulness once again." Even though he kept a straight face, Tony thought he detected a hint of pride in his voice and smiled but then Jarvis pushed away and bent down to look at him seriously. Dimly, he noticed that Carson and Clint had withdrawn to give them privacy.

"Tony, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Your mother's cancer came back. She's been getting treatment at the hospital but it hasn't been working. They're sending her home tomorrow with hospice care. She'd like to see you."

Tony's vision suddenly blurred and then Jarvis pulled him into a hug; he realized that he was shaking when he raised his arms to hug back. He didn't even know why he was crying, his mother had always been distant, away at galas and fundraisings, but he supposed he had always thought she'd be there in the background. And now _hospice_. He remembered the discussion about that from when his mother's cancer had first been discovered but she had responded to the chemo that time and it became something that they had buried away.

"And father?" he asked.

"Returned early from his trip overseas yesterday. He's making arrangements now for all the medical equipment to be set up. He's rescheduled his meetings and trips for the next couple of months."

Tony nodded against Jarvis' shoulder. So it was serious then.

He pulled back when he felt in control of his emotions again and looked around, as he came to the realization that his time with the circus was over. He found Clint standing solemnly next to the Ringmaster and beckoned him over.

"Clint, this is Jarvis."

Clint nodded and extended a hand. "Nice to finally meet you sir. Tony's told me a lot."

At that, Jarvis smiled and shook the proffered hand, murmuring "Same here, young sir."

"I have to go home, Clint. My mom - " Tony cut himself off before he could choke on the unexpected rise of emotions but Clint nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, Carson told me." He clapped Tony on the shoulder. "I'm really sorry, man."

"What, that's all I'm getting?" Tony said. "Who knows when we'll see each other again! You better give me a hug."

Clint laughed but complied. "I thought we got rid of that brattiness."

"I guess that's my superpower. The ability to get whatever I want. You better write."

Even though he couldn't see it, he knew that Clint was rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, if you really want to try to read my chicken scratch, I'll send you some samples."

"Good." They pulled back. Tony tried to smile but had a feeling that it was shaky. He hated the uncertainty that bled through when he asked, "Still brothers?"

Clint scoffed and aimed a punch at his shoulder, hard enough to leave a sting. "Don't be an idiot. As if you could get rid of me. I'll be mooching off of you when I'm too old to be flipping through the air."

Tony smiled, rubbing at his shoulder. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep a birdhouse ready for you."

Clint flipped him off and then Jess ran up and thrust a colorful sack at him. "Here, Clint told me to pack up your clothes. Don't know when you'll wear them if you're going home, but they can serve as keepsakes, I suppose."

Tony peeked inside and sure enough, there were the shirts and pants with the multicolored patches covering up holes and tears - hand me downs that had been given to Tony after they realized he had run away from home without anything. Tony's grip tightened on the bag. "Thanks, guys." He gave them each a final hug, shook hands with Carson, and then got into the waiting limo. As he watched the circus shrink in the rear window, he marveled at how quickly Murphy's Law worked and sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not the original Chapter 4 that I had mentioned at the beginning but I realized that there was too sudden of a time jump between the last chapter and the (now) Chapter 5 so this is the transitional chapter. It's a little sadder than I had planned on taking this fic. Because there's minor character death here but I didn't go into much detail about it.

Tony went home. His father met him in the foyer and gave him a long inscrutable look. Tony just tilted his chin up and stared evenly back. He wasn't going to apologize or beg to be allowed back home. He still stood by his reasons for leaving and he still thought he had found a better family in the circus than he had here.

"Your mother's in the sunroom," Howard finally said.

Tony gave a short nod and turned to go. He could feel his father watching him as he left.

He went to his room first to put away the clothes Jess had packed up for him and change back into something more familiar. He had no idea how ill his mother was at the moment but he didn't think it would be a good idea to see her with a physical reminder of his absence. He paused in front of his mirror and frowned. Dressed in his old clothes - well-tailored slacks and a far-too-expensive cotton tee shirt - he didn't  _look_ any different than before he left, though he felt like a whole new person. 

He shook his head and told himself to stop stalling and go see his mother.

When he got to the sunroom, the setting sun was shining brightly through the windows, tinting the sky in shades of pinks and oranges. Tony stopped short in the doorway, taken by surprise at the renovation that had been done. The sunroom was basically just as it was named - floor to ceiling windows on three sides of the room and large skylights in the ceiling all designed to let in as much natural light as possible. But gone now were the lounge set in the middle of the room, the piano in the corner, and the assortment of plants normally scattered around the room. The whole room had been cleared except for a state-of-the-art hospital bed placed next to the door against the one wall in the room so that its occupant would have an open view of the outdoors. On either side of that were armchairs and various medical equipment - a steadily beeping vital signs monitor and an IV pole with a bag of fluid hanging on it. 

His mother looked...older and frailer than he remembered. She appeared to be sleeping and was breathing softly and easily. Tony swallowed hard and crept closer, settling quietly into one of the chairs. He didn't know what to feel. She may not have spent as much time with him or even appeared to notice him as much as he wished but she was his  _mother_. And she was dying, that much was obvious. Tony bit down on his lip as tears started welling up again. He bent his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees, wishing with all his might that this wasn't happening.

He couldn't quite hold back a sniffle and his mother blinked her eyes open tiredly, gaze landing unerringly on him.

She gave a small smile and held out her hand. "Hey, baby, you're back."

Tony unfolded quickly and leaned forward to grasp her hand tightly. "Hi, mom. Yeah, I just got back. I didn't think you'd notice I was gone," he said shakily, and then winced. He shouldn't have said that, however true it might have been.

But she just shook her head. "Of course I noticed. You're my baby. I missed you. But you've always been more mature than your age and smart and I knew you'd be able to take care of yourself. Or find your way back if you couldn't. Did you make friends?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I did. But I missed you too."

She squeezed his hand. "Tell me about them?"

So Tony did.

He desperately wanted to know how  _she_  was doing but he thought that perhaps she didn't want to talk about it. So he didn't ask. He spent the rest of that night regaling her with stories about the circus and all the people he'd met there. Only some of them were exaggerated. Jarvis came in at one point to bring them dinner and stayed to hear some stories too.

"I'm glad you made friends," she said at the end of the night. Her eyes looked brighter and her cheeks a little rosier from laughing at his despair over Clint and King. "You were always so lonely."

Tony shrugged, not knowing quite how to respond to that. Because yeah, he never really had friends. And he never had any siblings or cousins to play with. But he was also a kid with genius-level intelligence so he wasn't really interested in spending time with kids his own age. They didn't tend to understand him nor he them.

"It's okay, mom," he finally said. "No one knew what to do with me."

"Well, you should hold onto this group of people. It sounds like they had a fairly good idea."

Tony smiled. "Yeah, they're good people."

He ended up sleeping in that armchair that night because he was afraid that if he went to sleep in his own room, something would happen to his mother overnight. He knew it was irrational but he shoved those thoughts away because who cared if it was irrational or not, this was his mother. 

His father even came in and settled into the other chair right before they were about to go to sleep. He had a thin flashlight behind one ear, a screwdriver behind the other one, and a small engine part in his hands so he was probably planning on staying up to tinker with something. Tony was a bit amazed, though he forced himself to maintain his neutral facade. This was the first time they'd all spent time together in years. It was almost surreal.

He realized the next day that he had left the circus without figuring out how he would keep in contact with them but it turned out Clint had thought of that already. A couple of days after he got home, a letter arrived for him from the circus. He spent a full minute gaping at the atrocious handwriting on the envelope and marveled at the post office's ability to read the address correctly because he knew his own address and he did not think he could have made that out among the scribbles.

He shook his head in disbelief. Apparently, Clint hadn't been kidding when he said his handwriting was bad.

Inside was not just a letter catching him up on all the latest gossip, complete with small doodles on the edges to illustrate Clint's stories, but also a copy of the circus flyer listing the upcoming dates and cities they were going to be visiting.

"Clint, you make me proud!" he muttered, feeling proud that he had rubbed off on the other boy.

The next time his mother was sleeping and his father settled in the chair across from him and deeply engrossed in his latest project, Tony slipped out. He got Jarvis to take him to the nearest electronic store and bought a Polaroid camera (not the best quality but easiest to use). 

_'Your handwriting sucks! Take pictures - they're worth a thousand words :p'_  he wrote on a sticky note and stuck onto the camera box.

Then he had that and his letter couriered over to the next city that the circus was supposed to be at with instructions to "look for the big red and yellow circus tent and ask for Clint Barton. I don't know where in the city they'll be but you can't miss it." The courier gave him an incredulous look but for the amount of money Tony was paying them, they kept their comments to themselves and accepted the package.

A few days later, a small manila envelope came for him. It was packed full of pictures and Tony giddily started flipping through them...only to furrow his brow when he realized that the pictures made no sense. There was one that looked like a close-up of a button on someone's coat. And another that looked like someone's shoe. Another that was half filled with colorful yellow and red flowered fabric and half filled with darkness. He sorted through them quickly but they were all the same - pictures of random things, all numbered on the bottom. Except for the last one, which turned out to be an aerial shot of the acrobats doing their routine. Clint must still be climbing up to the top of the tent to watch the show.

Frowning, he turned his attention back to the envelope and shook it out, wondering if Clint had written a letter. And yep, a letter folded into a crane tumbled out onto his hand. He carefully unfolded it and puzzled out the first line:  _Just for that, good luck figuring out what all the pictures are saying! The hints are buried in this letter. Ha!_

Tony shook his head with a quiet laugh but gamely dove into the challenge.

And so it continued over the next couple of months. Tony and his father would sit on either side of his mother, who spent progressively more and more time sleeping. A visiting hospice nurse came by three times a day to check on her and make sure her medications were in order. His father would bring in various projects to work on. Tony alternately brought school work that he needed to catch up on and letters he was writing to Clint or had received from the other boy. Sometimes one or the other of them would leave to get something or do something outside of the room but by silent agreement, they made sure that at least one of them was with Tony's mother at all times until the day that she passed.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony was 15 years old, home for his first winter break since starting at MIT, and all he wanted was -

"-jus' five mo' min...utes, J."

His butler likely hadn't heard him as his voice was muffled in his comforter (though Tony wouldn't put it past him to just  _callously_  ignore him either), because the next thing Tony knew, his comforter was being ripped out of his clutching hands and the curtains were being thrown open to let in the too-bright sunlight. Tony whimpered, threw one arm over his eyes protectively, and made grabby gestures fruitlessly with his free hand.

"Jarvis, how could you do this to me? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Master Anthony, this is already the third five more minutes I have given you. Now I really must insist that you wake up."

"But J, it's school break, the time for sleeping in and vegging out, why do I hear a tone of disapproval in your voice?"

"You must be hearing things, young sir. There is no disapproval. Now get up. I assure you, you will want to get up for this."

"For what?"

As an answer, Jarvis set a piece of paper in his outflung hand. Tony brought it to eye level, peeked out from under his arm, and saw that it was a colorful flyer. He blinked and the colors resolved into pictures and words proclaiming  _'Carson's Carnival of Traveling Wonders! Here for 1 week only! Come see amazing acrobatics, fearsome lions,_   _unbelievable_   _trick_   _shooting_   _and_   _sword work_ _!'_  Tony took in the collage taking up the rest of the paper, mentally putting names to faces when he could. At the bottom was a boy wearing a purple costume and standing in profile with a bow and arrow. Tony's eye widened as he read the caption. "Now introducing  _Hawkeye_ , the greatest marksman in the world. Oh my God, I can't believe this. That's Clint! Jarvis, did you know about this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did, sir," Jarvis answered dryly. "I thought perhaps we could go tonight. It's their opening night."

"Yeah, that'll be awesome! Wait, tonight's your night off, are you sure you want to spend it like that?"

Jarvis gave him a look, his  _do we need to have another_   _talk about_   _this?_  look and Tony hastily said, "Right, right. Your night, your choice of activities."

"Exactly right, Master Anthony. Also, this letter arrived for you with the flyer." He held an envelope just out of reach and Tony could just make out his name and address in a familiar scrawl. He pouted and made grabby hands again, but it worked about as well as it did earlier.

Tony finally sighed and sat up. "Okay, J. You win, I'll get up."

"Excellent decision, Master Anthony." He handed over the envelope and made shooing motions towards the table by the window, on which was what he called his Best Memories Storage Box but only in his head because it was so cheesy.

"Whoa, J, did you already unpack for me?"

"Yes, this morning while you were sleeping." Jarvis answered, snapping out the comforter to shake out the wrinkles.

"That's awesome. Thanks, J. I really missed you in Boston, you know." Tony placed his thumb on the fingerprint reader and waited for the beep before popping the lock on the box.

"Yes, I know. You told me that when you needed help finding a laundry service near your loft."

"Oh, yeah, thanks for the list of names you gave me." Tony rummaged through the collection of letters, postcards, doodles, and old circus flyers from Clint until he found the pocketknife that the other boy had sent him as a birthday gift. He'd claimed in the accompanying letter that he had found it in the garbage and had simply cleaned it up but it looked a little too shiny and Tony suspected that all of the circus kids may have chipped in to buy it because they could be surprisingly mushy like that. He used it to open the newest letter and set about puzzling out Clint's handwriting.

"Oh my God, J, Clint's just getting his own act!"

"Yes, I thought we covered that already."

"No, no. I mean he's been going out as Trickshot's assistant and protege, but now he's doing his own thing! Since last week, even! Looks like the feedback's been pretty good so Carson's happy."

"That is indeed good news, young sir. Now, I must see to a few more things before my night off. We'll be leaving at six. Do try not to be late."

"Sure thing, J, I'll meet you in the foyer." Tony waved a hand absently as he read about Clint's latest romantic escapades with a new acrobat-in-training, Skylar.

He was only ten minutes late that night which Tony counted as a personal victory but from his unimpressed look, Jarvis did not.

They had dinner at Burger King (Jarvis insisted that Tony be exposed to different types of food, so their outings regularly included American fast food as well as ethnic restaurants) where Jarvis got caught up on Tony's first semester of college, and then the two of them made their way to the big tent set up at the edge of the city. Tony waited anxiously through the Ringmaster's introduction, the acrobats flying through the air over a net, the lion tamer (and King, who looked ferocious as ever), the clowns, the Swordsman (with Barney as his sparring partner and a sequined assistant as their target for throwing knives), Trickshot, and then finally, the Ringmaster announced "And now, the one you've all been waiting for....Hawkeye, the World's Greatest Marksman!"

A spotlight appeared on one side of the ring, highlighting a boy dressed in a sequined purple costume with glitter in his blonde hair, quiver slung over his back and a bow in his hand. The crowd burst into applause, and a few preteen girls screamed. Tony snorted. "Glitter, really?"

But then the show started and Tony knew he was gaping but he couldn't help it. A clown stood in front of a target board juggling apples for a few seconds and then  _thwap_ _!_   _thwap_ _!_ In quick succession, arrows pinned two of the apples to the board behind him. The clown didn't look fazed, instead pulling out more apples from his pockets until there were so many in the air it was hard to see any individual one. Then several more  _thwaps_ _!_ came and the clown stopped, showing his empty hands, bowing, and then stepping aside, leaving the apples pinned in the shape of a smiley face on the board. The audience burst into loud applause and the archer bowed with a flourish.

Two more clowns came out and took up positions across the ring from each other on either side of large central wooden support beam and began tossing beanie bags back and forth, initially at a sedate pace, the bags arcing gracefully in the air before getting  _thunked_ _!_ into the pole. The throws sped up and became more erratic, some beanies flying high and some low, some reaching the peaks of their arcs to the side of the pole and crossing it on the upswing or downswing but every one getting pinned until the pole was bristling with a line of arrows. Tony's eyes widened with each hit. "Wow, he's gotten really good, J." Jarvis nodded indulgently.

When they were down to the last beanie, everyone paused for a second and then the bag was in the air - a gentle toss into a slow graceful arc. Almost too fast to register, Hawkeye turned his head to the crowd and winked, drawing and releasing his bow without sighting.

There was absolute silence in the tent and then thunderous cheers when it hit true.

Hawkeye bowed with a wide grin and jogged off, waving at the audience. There were a few more acts after that but Tony couldn't for the life of him pay attention anymore. He was itching to go find Clint and demand to know how he'd gotten so good since they'd seen each other.

Finally, the show wrapped up and Tony walked out with the crowd, planning to make his way to the trailers and look for Clint.

"I think he may be busy, Master Anthony," Jarvis said, pointing over to the far side of the campground where Hawkeye was standing next to a rack of weapons and a sign inviting people to  _'Come challenge Hawkeye to a shooting contest!_ ' There was already a line of people, mostly guys with girlfriends they probably wanted to impress, at the booth Trickshot was manning.

"I can't believe you use a  _bow_ ," one man was sneering at Clint as Tony and Jarvis walked up. "It's the twentieth century, get with the times."

"As I just said, sir, you are free to challenge Hawkeye on a weapon of your choosing. We have several guns as well as throwing knives if you do not wish to use a bow," Trickshot said patiently. The others waiting for their turn were not as patient and started grumbling but the guy glared at them and stalked over to peruse the weapons on display.

At that moment, Clint caught sight of Tony and Jarvis and grinned widely. "Tony! I thought that was you in the audience. You finally made it to a show!" He clapped Tony on the shoulder and Tony staggered a bit in surprise.

"Shit, you've gotten stronger."

Clint laughed. "Yeah, well, I've been eating my veggies."

"So what's all this?"

"New game. Carson says if they're gonna call me the greatest marksman in the world, I have to be able to live up to that and show people that it's not some stage trick."

"And so far....?"

"Still the greatest marksman in the world," Clint said smugly.

"Alright, punk," the challenger from earlier called. "Let's do this." He held up a rifle and smiled sharply.

"Great," Clint drawled. "Go stand behind the yellow line on the ground and aim for that target over there. It's thirty meters away, which is well within range of that rifle. You'll get first shot." As the guy stalked off, Clint turned back to Tony. "We do best two out of three. You can stay and watch if you want or go find some of the others."

Tony did end up staying throughout the whole thing, simply because it was beyond entertaining to watch all these guys with their macho posturing lose out to Clint in his purple glittery costume in front of their girlfriends. To be fair, not all of them were there to prove their manliness (or not, as the case may be, because Clint beat them all hands down). Some genuinely wanted to see how they measured up and a few were clearly archery students who had wanted to get some tips. Those became lessons and Tony watched in amusement as Clint knelt down to correct one kid's posture. She was 10 and was both the youngest and the littlest challenger but she had spunk and seemed to have pretty good skills, at least to Tony's untrained eyes.

"One day," he said to Clint later, when Trickshot closed the booth because Clint did have to rest his muscles, "I really will make a target that you can't hit."

"Pfft," Clint waved away, "you've been saying that forever. Tell me when you've actually done it."

Tony aimed a punch at his shoulder but Clint grabbed him in a light headlock and the two of them tussled for a bit on the ground before Tony remembered that Clint was covered in glitter. He squawked and pushed Clint off of him. "Aw man," he said, looking down at his clothes. "This is going to be hell to get out. Did it get in my hair too?" By the way Clint was smothering a laugh, he'd guess yes. "Ugh. Alright, go change and clean up so we can go get ice cream," he said, herding Clint in the direction of the trailers.

For the rest of that week, Tony spent his days working on a new project (there were these new mobile phones being made but they looked hideous and bulky so he had set out to make his own nicer, sleeker version) and his nights at the circus catching up with Clint and the others and meeting the new recruits. It was a far better way of spending his winter break than he had originally planned and he didn't even stay mad at Clint for not telling him about their schedules matching up earlier. Well, not after he invited the other boy over and turned the sprinklers on while he was walking through the lawn, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you guys think so far?
> 
> It'll probably be a couple of days until the next chapter, just fyi, because none of it has been written yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> I'm [likealeafonthewind](http://likealeafonthewind.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [todriftornot](http://todriftornot.livejournal.com/) on LJ. Feel free to drop on by and chat! :)


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